


Going Out

by skund



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-17
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skund/pseuds/skund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy’s lunch plans don’t go entirely to, well, plan. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Out

Clark frowned, glancing at the clock on his desk again. Bruce should have called by now. They'd arranged to have lunch after Bruce's meeting with the LexCorp board of directors here in Metropolis, but he was meant to be here fifteen minutes ago. Clark felt a spark of worry rise in his stomach, but mentally shrugged it off. No doubt the meeting had run overtime and Bruce would be here as soon as he could, with another wry remark on business meetings and their detrimental effect on one's will to live. Clark smiled slightly at the thought and went back to editing his article, but nothing entirely removed the frown from his face. 

An hour slowly ground past, and Clark lost the ability to concentrate on his work. He was unconsciously twirling a pen in his free hand, gazing absently at the elevator doors. Lois was out on a story, so he was thankfully spared her teasing for fretting over his 'playboy'. It'd only been a few weeks since he and Bruce had been publicly 'dating' and, despite the fact that they'd been together for almost a year, it was all horrifyingly new. Bruce, of course, had had a million and one objections - spanning duress and torture scenarios to tax implications. Clark had duly agreed with the major problems, compromised on the minor ones and finally ignored the paranoid Bat-delusions. It was worth it, and not only for the looks on everyone's faces the first time Bruce had come to the Planet to meet him for lunch. Most of Clark's colleagues had taken it in their stride, more or less. They were professionals, after all. Although Jimmy kept looking at him funny from across the room and Lois was occasionally rendered speechless. Well, almost. She seemed to cope with this new development using an endless string of mocking, jibes and innuendo. 

It was thankfully silent with her absence, but a part of Clark would have welcomed the distraction right about now. Thoughts kept tumbling through his head. Sure, Bruce could have been called away. But any disaster requiring the JLA would have involved him too, and the secret JLA earpiece his always wore had been quiet all day. There could have been an emergency of the Bat variety, but Bruce wouldn't leave without at least calling or texting or emailing or... something. Clark closed his eyes and focused, expanding his hearing to find the heartbeat he knew better than his own. Nothing. Bruce wasn't within the city. The worry he'd been ignoring suddenly leapt up to his throat. Something was wrong. And he knew it, had known it for over an hour. You idiot Kent, why didn't you listen to yourself!? He stood up abruptly, only to almost collide with Jimmy, who was just approaching his desk.  

“Woah, easy there Clark!” 

“Sorry, Jimmy, I need to-”

“Are you lookin' for this?” Jimmy held up a large manila envelope, with Clark's name on it and 'URGENT' scrawled across the top. Clark froze, he knew that handwriting. There was something about rich kid boarding schools that made all their pupils write in the same sophisticated scrawl. The writing before him lacked the confined control of Bruce's neat hand, but was more open and opulent. Lex Luthor. 

“Thanks!” He grabbed the envelope out of Jimmy's hands and tore it open without a second thought. Inside was a single piece of paper with an address for a building some distance from the city. Attached to the paper through roughly torn holes was a pair of cufflinks, gold and diamonds catching the pale light of the fluorescents overhead. One of them was streaked with red. Clark felt something inside fall. Luthor's knowledge of his secret identity had been one of Bruce's major concerns about going public. Clark's mind flicked back, trying to remember how he'd countered that particular argument. They'd bickered and argued for weeks over that one until finally Alfred had... oh. He'd deviously locked them cave's locker room with a few strategic, er, items and refused to let them out until all forms of yelling had stopped. It had seemed a perfect compromise at the time, but now...  

He hadn't even bothered to make an excuse this time, he just left. He didn't think he could look Lois or Jimmy and tell a straight faced lie without breaking. Ok, so he was panicking. Unbidden, every lecture Bruce had given him on the emotional perils of becoming involved with League team mates started playing in his head. Clark's usual methods of getting Bruce to shut up necessitated Bruce actually being present, so he ignored them. Seconds later a red and blue blur was streaking out of an alleyway next to the Planet. 

It took fifteen minutes to find the building, nestled on a dirt road kilometres from the highway leading out of Metropolis. He'd heard Bruce's heartbeat, steady and strong, and used it as a homing beacon. It was a small, two story factory, surrounded by dilapidated machinery and rotting timber. He blazed towards it from above, not bothering to check how many people were inside or how they were armed. Whatever they had, he'd deal with it. All he needed was to get to Bruce. He came to a sudden stop outside the heavily chained front doors and grabbed both doors in either hand. Feeling steel twist under his hand, surrendering to his strength, he pulled. The doors gave way with a groan of relief, and he threw them behind him and strode into the room, cape billowing behind him. Every muscle was primed, ready to fight, every sense heightened and - 

“What took you?” a quiet, cold voice from the shadows at the back of the room. 

Clark froze, captured by the glint of steel blue eyes. Bruce was gracefully stretched out on a steel chair, expensive Italian loafers on the table before him as he casually leafed through some papers. At his feet were a dozen odd guards, in various states of unconsciousness, all bound and gagged.  

Clark's adrenalin-fuelled mind entirely failed to produce a coherent thought. Sparkling blue eyes kept watching him.

“Take this lot outside, would you?” Bruce gestured to the pile of guards. 

Clark's brain slowly chugged into first gear. “Sure.” It took him a few trips at superspeed to take all the bound figures outside and place them near the road some kilometres distant, for the authorities to find. 

And then the room was silent, save for the beat of Bruce's heart and his own, and the quite whisper of papers Bruce was leafing through. 

“You know, I do actually try to run a business.” Bruce stated casually, not looking up “I spent time preparing for that meeting, but it turns out I needn't have bothered. It was only a ploy to get to me, and then to you. I have better things to do with my time, you know. And, I distinctly remember discussing this, I am certainly not going to be,” Bruce leapt up and was suddenly right in front of him, finger poke the yellow and red 'S' in time to his words, “your damsel. In. Distress.” 

Looking down at the finger still against his chest, Clark broke into a grin. He swept forward and wrapped him arms around the shorter man, ignoring his grunt of protest. “I love you.” he whispered into soft, brown hair. Bruce snorted in response. Clark closed his arms tighter, feeling the air sweep out of Bruce's lungs. “Bruce. I love you?” There was a pause, then lips moving against his neck in a line of kisses, and a muttered 'love you' so quiet only Clark could have heard it. His grin deepened.

Clark released his hold, letting is arms fall to his sides. His eyes swept around the room behind Bruce. It was all steel and antiseptic, glassware and indecipherable electronic equipment covering the benches. A lab. He shuddered. He'd seen more than enough LexCorp labs in his time. He hated labs. He really should do something about this one. He was just about to ask Bruce to go outside when strong fingers slipped between his own, curling tight. “Lets go.” 

Clark paused, catching Bruce's eyes. They stood together for a long second, then Clark nodded. “Sure.” 

They strode out of the building, leaving the harsh cold of the lab behind. Clark was inordinately pleased to see Bruce wasn't hurt, despite the bloodied cuffs of his shirt. He wouldn't have relinquished his father's cufflinks easily. 

Once outside Clark stopped and faced Bruce, watching him step within the circle of his arms. Once he was satisfied he had Bruce in a firm hold he took them both gently into the sky. He was just about to turn towards Metropolis when Bruce grabbed his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. 

“Is the building clear?” 

Clark glanced down and thoroughly scanned the building with his x-ray vision. “Yes, everyone's out.” 

“Good.” Bruce reached into his double breasted suit jacket, pulled out a small device and pushed a button. 

The lab below them exploded into a ball of fire, Clark's exquisite hearing detecting the shatter of every last piece of glass. He could swear he also heard Bruce smile, but his face was hidden in the curve of Clark's neck. They hung in the sky for a time, watching the debris fall back to Earth, then Bruce's hand was on his cupping his face and blue eyes were looking up to meet his own. 

“We still good for lunch?” A wry smile greeting him. 

Clark answered with his own grin. “Always.” 

They slowly flew towards the shining city in the distance.  


End file.
